Caught
by Chlocat
Summary: This is all the bleach characters, put in a CSI type setting . I do not own bleach, or this story, it belongs to tumbleberry on live journal, thought I would share the awesomeness with you guys, enjoy . "He had killed ten, now he's at it again!"
1. Chapter 1

Hi guys, I remember reading this story a couple of years ago and thought holy god, it's amazing! I re-read it recently and thought I would share it with you. I do not own bleach, the copyright to this story or any of the characters. It all belongs to tumbleberry. (live journal) I hope you guys enjoy, comment and I will get 'em back to tumbleberry. This is a 3 part series!)

**Caught**

Chapter 1

And so they find her, feathers stained in brilliant red, dripping love into the mussing of bed sheets. The police sirens have finally quieted outside, but the murmur of voices inside is just as loud, just as piercing. They slice through the air, razor-sharp, razor-clean, like the cuts running down her sleek shoulder blades.

Sticky cherryjuice slithers down the cuts, shining glass marbles that melt on contact.

He can only stare in horror.

They clipped her wings-whoever _they_ were-and pinned them high above her head with a sterling gold tack the size of a dessert plate. The M.O fits-

"-perfectly. Young girl, virgin, suffocated and then trisected along the collarbones and then once down the spine. No signs of harm or injury otherwise. And finally, pinned up through the hands with a large, golden tack." Hisagi Shuuhei finishes off his report, lifting his eyes from the small notepad in his hands.

"That's the fourth one this month, and it's only the twelfth. Kinda makes you wonder what a crazy-psychopath mindset this guy's got. I mean, _really_, he doesn't even rape them! Just kills 'em and then tacks 'em up to the wall." Hisagi glares at Abarai Renji, looking pointedly at the young detective standing feet from them, frozen in time; carved from stone. Abarai clamps his lips shut and bites them, looking embarrassed. Hisagi shakes his head; _insensitive git._

"Hitsugaya?" Matsumoto appears by his side, a hand resting gently on his shoulder, pressing life back into his veins. He winces but snaps to reality. His eyes refuse to meet the body on the wall again.

"I'm fine." He shrugs her off and turns his back on the crime-scene. He tastes bile on his tongue and wonders how long he can hold off before the voices and memories catch up to him. _Not long, not long now_. He can already feel them nipping at his heels.

Hitsugaya shakes them off, heart racing, trying to outrun the onslaught of sounds and images, wave after wave, threatening to crash down any moment now. He shoves his fingers through his hair, nails scrapping against his skull. The momentary pain clears his mind.

"Abarai, have the body taken to Forensics. Tell them to report to me immediately if they find anything else." Abarai nods and heads off. Hisagi watches his partner's retreating form for a moment before turning back to the detective before him.

"Detective, you know I'll tell the boss if you want to take a-"

"No. Thanks. Just log the crime scene and see if you can't find anymore clues as to the identity of the killer. Matsumoto, we're going to go find the... the _victim's_," he swallows thickly, clenching his fists, "family."

"Yes, but-." Her words fall on deaf ears. He is already gone. Matsumoto glances over at the body hanging limply from the wall and sighs. Hisagi catches her eye, a meaningful moment passes between seconds, and then she's gone too. Hisagi lets out a long breath he doesn't remember holding in, claps his hand and sets to work.

"Anyone got the ID from her mailing addres-" Hisagi cuts of the nameless officer.

"No need. We've already got an ID: Momo Hinamori."


	2. Chapter 2

So, here comes the second chapter of this amazing story, read, enjoy, review!

I DO NOT OWN THIS STORY (tumbleberry) OR BLEACH (tite kubo) any reviews, will be passed on to the writer when the story is completed! Thanks :)

* * *

**Caught: Chapter 2**

"Detective Hitsugaya, I really don't think it's a good idea for you to handle this case. _I know_–" Captain Ukitake holds up a hand, "That you're more than capable, you've proved yourself many times in the past._However,_" he fixes Hitsugaya with a pointed stare, "the emotional complications would render you _incompetent_."

Hitsugaya's eyes widen at the final word. _Incompetent? How _dare_ he even_–

"Just give it to him, Juushirou."

The entire room turns to look at the doorway. A man with a high nose and a cigarette sticking out the edge of his mouth stands there, lighter in hand. Everyone watches as he flicks the lighter to life and sets the cigarette aflame. The tip glows bright orange, smoke twisting through the air. The moment passes; he shoves the lighter back into his blazer pocket.

"Shunsui! But–" The Agent in Charge waves off the complaint and situates himself on the side-sofa next to the door, kicking up his feet on the coffee table. Smoke from his cigarette swirls up as he breathes in, and blows out. A waft of burnt sand bellows across the room. Hitsugaya coughs and clears his throat, the smell grating against his lungs. Matsumoto stands behind him, a hand raised in customary salute.

"Relax, Agent," The Agent in Charge turns back to the Captain, raising an eyebrow. The Captain opened his mouth, about to argue when something in Kyouraku's hand catches the light and glints toward the ceiling. The Captain's shoulders go tense, a large, incredulous smile spreading across his face.

"You've been promoted!"

The tension that had filled the room to the brim only seconds before drains out in an instant as it explodes with shouts of joy. Matsumoto whoops, Captain Ukitake stumbles over to his old friend, catching him in a tight one-armed hug, even Hitsugaya grins.

"Twice. So it's _Director_ Kyouraku now."

"That's amazing, Shunsui! Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Well, all the forms and whatnot kept me busy for a while, but I promised to come here first thing, so here I am." He sits back down; this time, the Captain joins him on the sofa.

"Well, as a celebratory gift, how about we all go out tonight, dinner's on me. _And..._" Kyouraku looks from The Captain to Hitsugaya. Ukitake sighs and nods. Hitsugaya's face brightens just enough, and he bows very low.

"Thank you, Captain. Thank you, Director." He is breathless as he rushes from the room. Matsumoto lingers behind, smile fading. She catches The Director's eyes and grins weakly.

"Congratulations, Director Kyouraku." She bows. Kyouraku winks, but his expression takes a turn for the serious as he jerks his head towards the door. He blows out another ring of smoke.

"Take care of him, Ran. Yeah?"

* * *

He flicks through file after file, page after page, picture after picture, name after name.

First victim, Orihime Inoue. Age, 23. Occupation, Medical Student at Columbia University. Marital Status, dating Uryuu Ishida (Fashion Major at NYU). Found in the presidential suit of the local Hilton Hotel.

Second victim, Hisana Kuchiki. Age, 25. Occupation, Professional Wedding Boutique Shop Owner. Marital Status, engaged to Byakuya Kuchiki (Yale Law student). _Killed the day before her marriage ceremony._ Found in the expensive loft above her shop.

Third victim, Tia Harribel. Age, 19. Occupation, Art History Major at Cornell University. Marital Status, single. Found in the dining hall of her father's mansion.

And the list goes on...

Yachiru Kusajishi. Age, 16; _the youngest victim_. Found in a suite in the Four Seasons. Hiyori Sarugaki. Age, 18. Found in a loft above Prada on 5th. Chizuru Honshou. Age, 17. _The only lesbian of the whole lot_. Found on the stage of Carnegie Hall. Isane Kotetsu. Age, 24. Found in the guest bedroom of her grandmother's wealthy, uptown home. Kiyone Kotetsu. Age, 20. Found in the exact same place. _Their grandmother died of a heart attack on the spot after that_. Nemu Kurotsuchi. Age, 21. Found in the Cornell Science Department Laboratories, where her father works as a Professor. _It turns out her father_wasn't_ the killer after all_. Tatsuki Arisawa. Age, 23. Found in the entrance hall of the private doujo she teaches at.

Ten murders, _ten_. All in one month.

_Tactless_. That's what he called himself. _Tactless_. A pun, Hitsugaya supposes, on the fact that he always uses a golden tack to pin his victims up. Tactless works in intervals of three days between each murder, and three months between sprees. Those ten girls had all been murdered exactly three months ago, and now, it's all starting again. Three more girls have already been killed.

_Four_, Hitsugaya corrects himself dryly, flicking open the newest stack of files. One more file will be added to this stack today.

The first was Lisa Yadoumaru. Age, 21. _The ex-FBI agent. Director Kyouraku didn't show up for a week after the incident._ Found in her private home two blocks from Wall Street.

The second, Sui-Feng, _Soifon, her fans had called her_. Age, 19. _The up-and-rising track star, headed for the Olympics_. Found in Icahn Stadium. _Her personal trainer, Yoruichi Shihouin almost killed one of the officers holding her in for questioning. She was let-go eventually when they confirmed the murderer to be Tactless._

Then the most recent murder preceding, Nelliel Tu Odelshwanck. Age, 19. _The Victoria's Secret Model from Germany_. Found in the main hall of the runway show she was scheduled for that weekend.

And now... Hitsugaya kneads his eyes with his knuckles and tries not to think about the girl, pinned up in the hotel suite, her black hair like ink running off a canvas against the pale, Victorian-styled wallpaper._What the hell was she doing there?_

Momo never liked expensive hotels or fancy restaurants. No, she preferred the night in with a good cup of tea and an old movie, probably starring Audrey Hepburn or Marilyn Monroe. _What was she doing there...?_

Maybe she was called–no\lured–no\kidnapped\_there were no signs of brute force on the body_. But she was **suffocated**. Why didn't she screamyellcall for help–call _him?_ He would have been there, he would have, ofcourseofcourse. He would have... _what would he have done_?

He would have called authorities\called for help\kicked his ass\protected her\protectprotectprotected\he was useless\useless\useless. **He didn't protect her**.

_He would have _killed_ whichever bastard dared touch a hair on her body. _Tactless is a dead man, that's right, dead_dead__**dead**_**. **BANG.

"Hitsugaya?" He jumps; the coffee in his hand nearly tips over. Matsumoto sits down in her usual seat, right angled with his desk so that they can see each other at all times. She crosses her hands over the files spread haphazardly over the cherrywood. Hitsugaya sets down the coffee. She glances at it. It's untouched and cold.

She leans in. He leans back.

_Avoidance._

"Has Forensics got an official report in yet?" He speaks first. She is only just opening her mouth–closes it, and purses her lips. She nods carefully, finally forging eye contact. Ice-gray skies over tumultuous green oceans. A storm is brewing; they can both hear the thunder. Only a matter of time before the lightning starts flashing.

"Well?" He raises a eyebrow, a perfect arch over the windows to his soul. They're closed, but _never for long_ when she's around. She forces them open, like Momo before her. _Because that's what partners do, they unlock you._ Pain pours out, in waves;tidal-waves;tsunamis;hurricanes;tornados;vol canoes.

...

Thunder rolls in, skies cloud over in dark blue; lightening flashes, waves from wind crash against reefs and rocks. It starts to rain.

"It wasn't your fault." Rain turns to snow.

_Yes it was, yesitwas, it was all my fault, my fault,myfault, .__**fault.**_

I'm useless.

"And even if she did call you, you would have never made it in time." Snow to hail.

_I would have found a way to help her, protect her. I would have, would have..._

Useless.

"Please... don't _do_ this to yourself."

Hitsugaya looks away.

The storms ceases in an instant, the waves stop, the clouds disperse, the rain thins until only a light mist remains.

Matsumoto knows she lost, and sighs.

_Useless._

"The forensics report came back clean... except for mild traces of d-tubocurarine in her bloodstream." She keeps her gaze marked on his face. Matsumoto wasn't trained in deception for nothing. He tenses and turns rigidly back towards her. She sees through his skull; his brain zooms into overdrive.

"Curare..., d-tubocurarine is in Curare...he drugged her." Matsumoto nods and pushes the file across the table to him. He looks down at it, eyes glazing over the words, not understanding them. He shakes his head to clear it of the remaining storm clouds and tries again. _Traces of d-tubocurarine... puncture wound found on right forearm... injected... prescription..._

She'd struggled.

Matsumoto watches as he comes to the same conclusion she'd come to minutes ago.

"She put up a fight."

"He broke his M.O."

They look at each other.

"She could have tried to call for help."

"Something must have gone wrong for him."

useless_fault_useless_fault_useless_fault_**protectprotectprotect.**

Hisagi and Abarai rush in, a plastic bag clutched tightly in Hisagi's hands.

In the bag: a cellphone.


End file.
